


Hiding in the Dark

by LunarDaydreams



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Needs Help, Adrien Agreste Needs a Hug, F/M, Gen, Mentor AU, Protective Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Some Mystery elements?, canon divergent after season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-11-26 22:44:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20937986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarDaydreams/pseuds/LunarDaydreams
Summary: On a night run, Chat Noir stumbles upon and thwarts a kidnapping by someone with powerful abilities that isn't an akuma. As a result, he finds out about a series of similar kidnappings over fifteen years ago that a previous Chat Noir and Ladybug had been stopping in secret-- but the man behind it all, Monarch, was never found.Now, Ladybug and Chat Noir must finish what their predecessors started, while still taking care of their own supervillain. Luckily, they have some help.





	1. Shadows

There was a man Adrien had never seen before standing in the foyer.

Adrien paused just inside the doorway to observe the stranger. Something about him made a cold feeling trickle down his spine, goosebumps rising on his arms, and he had to fight the urge to shiver as the man turned and saw him. 

"Ah, hello." The man said in a pleasant voice as he looked him over.. "Adrien, wasn't it? I'm a new business partner of your father's." His eyes were unnerving, a very pale grey that seemed to stare through him. The man otherwise looked normal, an angular face with few wrinkles-- middle aged perhaps-- but premature white hair neatly combed back. He wore a simple grey designer suit. He recognised it from his father's line.

Years of practice made it easy enough to conceal his discomfort behind a practised model smile. Besides, he had no reason to be so nervous around this man. "I didn't know father was having people over for business anymore." Maybe this was a good thing? Talking to business partners in person might be the next step to actually talking to anyone else. "It's nice to meet you, monsieur…?"

"Danaus Alaric." The man introduced, a smile on his face as he held out his hand to shake Adrien's. As Adrien shook his hand, Monsieur Alaric's eyes flicked down to Adrien's hand and back up to his face before Adrien could even fully process that he had looked away at all. "Pleasure to meet you, Adrien."

Before Adrien could answer, Nathalie opened the side door into the foyer. "Monsieur Agreste is ready to see you now."

Monsieur Alaric looked her way, then back at Adrien, like he was carefully studying his face. "Well, business calls. Farewell."

Adrien waited until both adults had disappeared into the other room to begin walking up the stairs.

Plagg poked his head out of Adrien's inside pocket. "Ugh, I hate smarmy businessmen. They always give those fake smiles and fake good guy acts."

"I do that too, Plagg," Adrien said quietly as he reached his room.

"That's different." Plagg said defensively. "You're actually nice. Heck, you're  _ too _ nice. You don't use your model smile to manipulate people."

Adrien just sighed, setting down his bag to get his homework out. Plagg winced, wishing he was as good with kids as Tikki was.

* * *

That night was one of the nights that Adrien felt extra stifled in the house. His father had neglected to turn up for dinner with him. Again. And according to Nathalie he would be busy for the next two weeks working on a new project, presumably with Monsieur Alaric. Adrien had run into him again in the foyer as Monsieur Alaric was leaving and Adrien was going to dinner.

The man still hadn't done anything to  _ justify _ Adrien's unease. He was perfectly polite, but his stare still unnerved him. It may have just been the colour of his eyes, and Adrien felt guilty for being creeped out by it. He was sure he had far creepier eyes when he was Chat Noir.

But even without the unease, it had been a rough day. A photoshoot made him miss some of his classes, so he'd had to get notes from Nino-- and Nino tried, he really did, but they weren't as good as Adrien's notes (and his skill in multitasking) were. It meant extra time studying textbooks, because even though he understood it easily enough he had to make  _ sure _ he really did understand the problems and not mess up a single one. Getting another A- was unacceptable. Honestly, getting anything less than 100% was unacceptable to his father. 

So once Adrien had finally finished studying and finished (and triple checked) the homework-- he always tried to finish everything on the same day, rather than risk a long akuma attack or unexpected obligations sending him behind-- it was about midnight. 

He  _ should _ go to sleep. Adrien slept so little these days, between the busywork from school, keeping up with the additional tutoring his father insisted on, the piano, chinese, fencing, school sports team, and modeling. And of course, being a superhero on the side. That in particular had been consuming more and more of his time, because being Chat Noir at least meant being  _ free. _ He could go anywhere he wanted, speak his mind and act like  _ himself. _

Even if nobody else seemed to really care for that side of him. 

Adrien shoved aside those thoughts and focused on deciding if he wanted to sleep, or go on a run. 

"Plagg, I want to go out," he decided.

As predicted, Plagg whined, but by now Adrien knew it was an act-- mostly, anyway. His Kwami  _ was _ terribly lazy. And a minute later he was out the window and running silently along the rooftops, enjoying the cool night air rushing through his hair and against his skin. His vision at night was about as good as the day, with the lights of Paris meaning his vision didn't even turn into the green 'night vision' that it did in pitch blackness. 

It was  _ definitely _ worth the lost sleep to get to feel this free. And it would be easier to sleep once Chat Noir had worked off some stress. Plus, it would never hurt to keep an eye out for any night-time akuma. Sometimes he would catch and stop petty crimes-- sometimes not-so-petty worse crimes, the kind his Lady didn't need to know about unless she was patrolling with him and they came across them. She always seemed to struggle more with splitting her time between Ladybug and her normal life, and he didn't want to add more stress to it.

For Chat Noir-- For Adrien-- life had always been about mental masks and juggling a dozen things at once. So though it was tiring, and he would  _ prefer _ to have less to do, he didn't find it as overwhelming. And at least he liked  _ this _ mask, the physical one letting his metaphorical ones fall. Plus, the only thing as good as seeing His Lady was helping people.

Something caught Chat Noir's attention as he passed close to an area with more bars, a metallic scent just barely there on the wind over the smell of alcohol, and he changed directions to follow the source. There was fresh blood nearby, and it seemed like there was a lot of it. Hopefully coming from an alive person and not someone who had already died. Chat Noir unclipped his baton as he went, ready for whatever would be coming-- whether it was to use the baton to defend, or to call 112. Or both.

The streets were not empty, but they were not packed either; it was still too early for the bars to close and kick everyone out. Nobody seemed aware that the scent of blood was drifting just down a few alleyways away, now mixing with the sharp, acidic smell of fear. It didn't take long to cross the rooftops to the source of the smell. Over the edge, he could see splotches of blood just visible beside a dumpster, and he jumped silently to the ground, landing in a crouch beside the stains but careful not to tread in it and risk accidentally contaminating a crime scene too much. There was no sign of the person who had been bleeding, nor the reason why, but he could see that the blood trailed off further into the alleys in a streak that indicated someone being dragged. He slid open the baton phone as he crept along the trail as quickly but quietly as he could and texted emergency services with his location and that he’d found a lot of blood. 

Over the sound of the nearby bars he began to hear the sound of a struggle, though it was quite faint and weak, and he sped up, rounding the corner to see… He didn’t actually know what he was seeing. A woman who blended with the darkness too well, not invisible, but like she was  _ made of shadows.  _ Semi-translucent, the wall behind him faintly visible through her head, but the hand covering the mouth of her victim-- a young man, maybe twenty-- seemed to be solid enough to do its job. The man was bleeding from a large cut on his forehead and shoulder and struggling as best as he could as the shadow woman dragged him along.

Chat Noir sprung forward and extended the baton just as the shadow woman realised he was there. He managed to speed it up so it threw the woman far back into the walls of a nearby building. And in a single leap he was between the shadow woman and her victim. He flung out an arm to keep the man from being knocked down by the force of the shadow woman being knocked away.

“Oh my god. Chat Noir?" The man gasped shakily, clutching at Chat Noir's arm until he got his bearings. Chat Noir kept his baton out and ready, sparing only a slight glance to the man because he didn't dare let the shadowy woman leave his sight. 

"Do you think you can walk?" Chat Noir asked the man gently, releasing him cautiously to make sure he didn't fall. "I messaged emergency services. They'll be looking for the alley where you got hurt. That was where I told them when I found the blood."

"I-I can walk. I-- god,  _ thank you. _ I thought that thing was going to kill me." The man stumbled backwards and hurried back the direction Chat Noir had come from. 

By now the shadow woman was picking herself off of the ground with a groan, and she glared at him. "Chat Noir. I suppose running into you was always inevitable." She eyed him warily, ready to move the second he did. "Shouldn't a child like you be in bed?"

"First of all, I'm nearly done with lycée," the lie came easily, well thought out and practicsd. They had decided after Alya and the textbook crisis to work out a fake 'backstory' for themselves, especially when it became apparent that they  _ weren't  _ thousands of years old. According to what Chat Noir would tell people, they were a few years older, last year of lycée. "Second, maybe I would be asleep if jerks like you weren't out at night."

The shadow woman lunged, strange deeper shadows spreading out under her feet ahead of her. Chat Noir dodged to the side, but the shadows jolted to the side to follow him and huge tendrils shot out and slammed him, hard, into the wall. There were multiple loud cracking sounds at once, both from the wall and from the concentrated force of the tendrils breaking his right collarbone and at least one of his ribs. 

If it hadn't knocked all the air out of Chat Noir's lungs he would have yelled, but all he could manage was a weak gasp, trying to force his lungs to work again. The shadows pressed on his chest and shoulder like they were trying to crush him, and a few more fainter cracks indicated it was working. He clawed at it, trying to get even a little bit of leeway so he could  _ breathe _ at least enough to call for Cataclysm, and he could hear the woman giving an awful laugh.

"Chat Noir!" There was suddenly bright light on his face, and his head jolted back, hitting the wall painfully when his vision went spotty, the change in light too fast for the wide cat pupils to shrink. But at the same time he was released, falling heavily to the ground with heaving gasps interspersed with coughs. Chat Noir was too out of it to notice footsteps until a slim hand was rubbing his back and his eyes snapped up. 

For a split second, Chat Noir thought it was His Lady, face mostly obscured by light-spots but bright blue eyes visible, but he blinked and the woman's face came into focus. Maskless, older-- It wasn't her, though she definitely bore a passing resemblance. As soon as he registered that it wasn't her, his head snapped to the side, looking for the shadow woman.

"She's gone." The woman next to him said gently. "Don't think she liked the light." She lifted up the flashlight she was holding.

Chat Noir took another deep breath, though his broken ribs throbbed in response. "Thanks for the save." He managed a weak smile, vision now clearing enough to make out the EMT uniform his rescuer wore, as well as a better look at her. Probably Chinese descent (though he was far from an expert), with long black hair pulled back in a tight bun, bright blue eyes, and a warm and gentle smile. 

"No problem," she said cheerfully, though she looked concerned. Her voice was a little higher than Ladybug's, but not by much, and there was a little more of a rhythmic quality to it. "Let's get you out of this dingy alley." The paramedic helped him up and led him back out to the street, where ambulances and police cars were parked, and the victim was being treated, sitting in the back of one of the ambulances.

"Is the akuma dealt with?" One of the other paramedics noticed them come out of the alleyways and hurried over. "I didn't see--"

"Not an akuma." The young man that Chat Noir had saved blurted out. "She didn't-- she was different. I don't know her, so she had no reason to target me. She told me she  _ didn't _ want you or Ladybug to find her, while she was trying to kidnap me. Don't akuma usually want to fight you?" 

"They do." Chat Noir narrowed his eyes and stepped towards him, ignoring the pain of his collarbone and ribs as best he could. "Did she say anything else?"

"Not to me, but she was talking to someone. I couldn't see her so I don't know if there was anyone else in the alley behind us or if she was on a phone or using some kind of telepathy," the man made a frustrated noise. He seemed pretty agitated, and Chat Noir couldn't blame him. "But she called them Monarch and told them she would be back soon with 'the next' which-- which I assume was me, since she was kidnapping me."

"Thank you for telling me about this." Chat Noir knelt down to give him a reassuring smile. "What's your name?"

"Demetre," he replied, calming just a little. "Thank you again for saving me." Demetre tried to smile, but it was weak and watery. 

"I'm just glad I found you in time, Demetre." Chat Noir started to move his right arm, but stopped, carefully hiding a wince before moving to put his left hand on Demetre's shoulder instead. "I should go and contact Ladybug about this, but you're in safe hands now." He gestured in the direction of the paramedics and officers."

Demetre nodded as Chat Noir turned to go, but he only got a few meters away before the paramedic who had saved him earlier stepped in his way.

"If you don't mind, Chat Noir, I would like to check on your injuries before you go anywhere. I noticed you're keeping your right arm still and breathing shallowly." She said firmly.

Chat Noir stared at her. He had been hiding it pretty well. He didn't think anyone had noticed. "I really should--"

"Just let her do it." One of the other paramedics told him. "Bridgette is the most stubborn person in the world. Save yourself the trouble."

Bridgette stepped towards him and took hold of his uninjured shoulder, gently pushing him to sit down on the stretcher they had out. Before he could even quite parse that a paramedic was man-handling a  _ superhero _ into accepting treatment, she had undone the snaps behind the bell zipper like she knew exactly where they were, and opened his suit just far enough to push the leather-like cloth where she could check his injuries. 

She was being quite gentle, but he still hissed quietly under his breath when Bridgette lightly pressed on his collarbone. "Sorry," she said softly, but she didn't look away from checking him over. It hurt less the next time she pressed on it-- almost tingly, strangely enough-- and it was the same for his ribs. By the time she was done, he felt a liittle better. Maybe just because he was sitting.

"Alright." Bridgette redid the zipper for him and grabbed a sling from the medical supplies, helping him to put it on his right arm. "Broken collarbone, broken ribs, but I think you're okay to leave. Have Ladybug heal you when you talk to her, or if you don't see her right away go to the doctor and get an x-ray. Keep your arm in that sling till you do either of those things."

Chat Noir just nodded, still a little perplexed, though he privately wondered if Ladybug could even heal him from a fight she wasn't there for. He got to his feet again and jumped up to the nearest rooftops. It was a bit weird to run with his arm in a sling, and he  _ really _ hoped nobody was getting pictures. The people of Paris might be more afraid if they saw that even their heroes could get injured. He also really hoped that the shadow woman wouldn't come back and attack him right now. At least until he could get a flashlight.

Once Chat Noir was a far enough distance away, he backed into the shadows of a chimney, opening the baton's phone to call Ladybug. He desperately hoped she would pick up, but to his dismay it went straight to voicemail.

"Ladybug, please call me back as soon as you get this. I'll be out here every night until I hear back from you." Chat Noir started leaving his message, not quite able to keep the panic out of his voice. "There was something out here that isn't an Akuma-- this woman made of shadows and she could control them and they were strong enough to hurt me through the suit. If you see her, be careful." He hated admitting when he was hurt, but he needed Ladybug to know not to underestimate her. "She was trying to kidnap this guy, don't know why, and he told me she said something to someone named Monarch. I'm going back home now and I'm gonna talk to Plagg about it."

With the message recorded, he sprinted off towards home.

* * *

Chat Noir decided to lay down in his bed before detransforming; Judging by how bad he hurt  _ already,  _ he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be moving for a bit once the full pain of his injuries caught up with him. He flopped onto the bed, careful not to get his boots on the sheets, and sighed. “Plagg, detransform me.”

Exhaustion and pain hit Adrien like a runaway train, even with Plagg’s attempt to mend his injuries with the detransformation. He wasn’t the one who fixed things, after all. Adrien stared at the ceiling for a moment, a small whining noise in the back of his throat as he tried to will his body to stop hurting enough to at  _ least _ kick off his shoes. It took him a minute to manage it, and by then Plagg had eaten several pieces of camembert and taken a final one to snack on while he curled up in the space between Adrien's neck and shoulder, purring softly..

"How are you feeling?"

"Not great." Adrien shut his eyes and breathed slowly. At least his ribs didn't feel like they were moving weird when he breathed anymore, they just  _ hurt _ . He assumed Plagg had focused on knitting the bones together enough that they were still in one piece. A very fractured piece, but at least nothing was shifting weird. "What  _ was _ that woman?"

Plagg sighed softly, finishing off his cheese. "Last time I saw her, she was going by Umbra. One of Monarch’s higher ranked minions, and hardest to catch since she’s made of shadows most of the time."

"So you know what Monarch is?"

"What, yes. He's a man with mind control powers and amplification of natural abilities, almost like Akuma but way more subtle.  _ Who _ he is, now that’s the problem. Around seventeen years ago, Tikki and I chose a couple of kids to try to take him down. He was kidnapping people with dormant potential, I guess since he couldn’t just give people powers outright like Papillon does. Anyway, two years later, Monarch just… stopped. They tried to hunt him down, but there was a complication with a curse and they had to give up the Miraculous."

"You… had another wielder that recently?" Adrien asked quietly. His insides twisted with jealousy, and he knew it was awful of him to feel that way, but the idea that someone else would still be Chat Noir if things hadn't gone wrong bothered him. It was stupid, but it made him feel a little like he was just the second choice, even though he hadn't even been born yet. But he tried to force it down. "Why didn't we know about them? Was it here in Paris?"

"It was, and you didn't know cause Monarch acted at night and kept things quiet. We didn't want anyone to know about the Miraculous, but Papillon went announcing it to the world." Plagg eyed Adrien for a moment. "Kid, stop that. I know you're thinking self-deprecating thoughts again, and quit it. I chose you for a reason, and you're stuck with me as long as you want the Miraculous. There were other candidates, but I chose  _ you." _

Some of his anxiety eased, and Adrien reached over to scratch the top of Plagg's head. "Thanks, Plagg. Becoming Chat Noir was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Plagg purred louder in response to the scritches, and for a moment that was the only sound in the room before Plagg got ahold of himself again. "So. Uh. Speaking of that. How d'you feel about some permanent powers?"

"What?"

"You're gonna need more than a one use Cataclysm to fight both Monarch and Papillon at once. We were hoping to hold back the full scope till Papillon was caught so that he wouldn't figure out  _ he _ has other powers. The last Chat Noir and Ladybug had them because they needed to use less showy abilities, but they… change people. What we've  _ been _ doing was using only our own power, and that meant it didn't physically cost you as much. If I give you these powers, you won't be just borrowing my magic, it'll be  _ your _ magic. Forever. Even untransformed. Even if you did get sick of me and give up the Miraculous. And it's tiring. You gotta build up reserves, eat more to compensate, stuff like that."

"First off, I won’t be getting sick of you. Second, that actually sounds awesome," a grin spread over Adrien's face. "What do I need to do?"

"Nothing yet. I'll show you tomorrow night. For now, get some  _ sleep." _ Plagg poked him lightly. "You've got two hours till school and three ribs and a collarbone to heal."

"Great…" Adrien groaned, shutting his eyes. "Tomorrow-- today-- is gonna be terrible."

* * *

Felix was still awake when Bridgette got home, waiting with a saucepan full of hot chocolate on the stove and a cup already made up for her, whipped cream and a touch of chocolate syrup on top. She sank onto the couch next to him and accepted the cup, leaning her head into his shoulder. “You’re the best.”

Her fiance smirked, putting his arm around her and pressing a light kiss to her temple. “I know. You tell me almost every day.”

“I’ll stop saying it when it stops being true.” Bridgette giggled softly. She drew her legs up onto the couch, and for a moment they stayed in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company. She took a few more sips of hot chocolate before she spoke again. “I met Chat Noir tonight.”

“Surprised it took you this long to.” Felix said after a moment, a little bit of uncertainty in his voice. “It’s weird to…”   
  
“Hear me call someone else Chat Noir?” Bridgette guessed, nudging him teasingly. “Would you rather me call him Chat **on** Noir? Petit Chat Noir?”

Felix grimaced, “Please don’t. Give the kid some dignity.” 

Bridgette stuck out her tongue at him, but soon settled back into his side and took another sip of hot chocolate. “Anyway. He’s even more stubborn about injuries than you are. Broke his collarbone and three ribs and was trying to get out of being looked at.”

“You healed him, though?” Felix tried not to look too concerned, but Bridgette saw right through it. She knew Felix worried about his successor though they had never met; how  _ young _ the boy was, how reckless, how he threw himself into danger without hesitation to protect people, especially to protect his Ladybug. 

“As much as I could risk without raising questions,” Bridgette frowned. “Not as much as I would have liked. If it had just been my crew there, I would have healed him completely and told him to talk to me later. I wanted to tell him who I was.”

“That’s dangerous, no matter how much we don’t like it.” He reminded her gently.

“I know. Normally I would’ve just said something about genetic healing powers or something, but… Felix, it wasn’t an Akuma. It was Umbra.”

Bridgette felt Felix tense, his breath catching.  _ “What? _ It’s been more than ten years!”

“I guess with Papillon around making a nuisance of himself, Monarch figured he could make better progress with his plans this time.” Bridgette rested her forehead on Felix’s shoulder, feeling more tired than she had in some time, though it wasn’t physical. She’d had much worse shifts in her time as a paramedic. “I’m sure Plagg and Tikki will fill them in on most of it, but… Poor kids. Just Monarch was hard enough on us, even with the rest of the team. Imagine fighting  _ both.  _ Alone…”

Felix was quiet for a moment, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. “If they don’t get some kind of backup soon, we’ll go yell at Fu until he does something. How does that sound? Hell, I bet we could steal the box from him and find some new teammates for them ourselves. We’ll drop him in a black hole and grab it and go.”

“That would probably be some kind of immoral, Felix.” 

But it made her laugh anyway.


	2. Bad Luck

As predicted, school was awful. 

He'd covered the bruises around his collar with concealer, making good use of the years Adrien had spent watching makeup artists work their magic. He already wore makeup to school anyway-- it was a deeply ingrained habit to look his best when he went out, because if he skipped a day people would say he was sick in the tabloids. He couldn't wear the sling, because it would raise unwanted questions and if it got back to his father he doubted he would ever be allowed to go to school again. 

Adrien did his best to just keep his arm immobile, and breathe slowly and move slowly and pretend everything was fine. He would have to take notes left handed, but Adrien had taught himself to write okay enough that he could make it work. 

Nino wasn't fooled though. He noticed right away when Adrien waved to him left handed and their typical morning fistbump was similarly done the same. He also didn't miss the careful way he was moving.

"Okay, dude, spill. What the hell happened to you?" Nino demanded, though he kept things quiet so no one else would hear. 

Adrien sighed. He  _ hated _ lying to Nino, but he couldn't exactly tell him the truth. "I messed up on my rock climbing wall and didn't make it to the couch. Don't tell anyone. If father finds out, he is going to be furious."

"You should be going to a doctor." Nino's eyes widened. "What if you broke something?"

_ You have no idea, _ Adrien thought. "I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Too late. Worrying." Nino paused, then reached out and grabbed Adrien's bag. "Give me that. I'm carrying all your stuff till you heal up. Do you want me to take notes for you?"

"I'll manage. I can write okay with my left hand." Adrien assured him, and he couldn't help but smile. Nino was the most amazing friend, and sure Adrien didn't have a big sample size, but he was still pretty sure Nino was objectively the best. "Thanks, Nino."

"Bro, no problem. If you need help with anything else, just tell me." Nino very gently put an arm around his shoulders in a careful hug. "You're my best friend,” he said it like it was a reminder to Adrien.

"And you're the  _ best _ friend in the world." Adrien laughed. 

"Nah, man. You'd do the same for me." Nino shook his head with a returning smile. 

"Adri-chou!" Chloe's voice called out just as they got to the base of the steps. Adrien turned, already internally cringing because Chloe always tackle hugged him in the mornings and he knew it would  _ hurt, _ but to his surprise, she halted a few feet away, staring at him. "Adrien, did you fall in fencing again?"

Of course Chloe would notice, and Adrien didn't know in retrospect why he had been surprised. She was the only friend he'd had till Nino, afterall. He literally couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t known her.

"I'm okay, Chlo. Just fell off the climbing wall." Adrien assured her. "Just some bruises, it'll be better in a few days."

Chloe's eyes flickered between Adrien and Nino, catching sight of the bag Nino was holding, and for a moment Adrien was pretty sure he saw approval in her eyes. "You need anything at all, tell me." She insisted, with a seriousness only he had ever seen before. Nino looked stunned at the change. "I can pay off a doctor to check you out without telling your father, if you want."

"That's not necessary, Chloe. But thanks." Adrien gave her a warm smile. It was nice to see her acting a little more like her normal self, even if it was only to him. She lightly squeezed his uninjured arm and then went to meet up with Sabrina.

"Wow." Nino stared after her. "I've never seen her act  _ normal _ like that. I know you told me she used to be way different, but…"

"I've known Chloe since we were toddlers. She used to be… well, kinda bossy and still vain and stuff, but she was warmer. Not cruel." Adrien sighed. "She was there for me through a lot, like my mom dying and the… things that happened around it." Maybe, if he had been able to help her the same way instead of being so stupidly timid about standing up to adults, she would have stayed that way.

"Alright, I'll take your word for it." Nino was obviously curious, but he didn't press the issue. "Let's get to class before we end up late."

* * *

Even with Nino carrying Adrien’s stuff, and keeping his arm still and avoiding moving his torso too much, by the end of the day Adrien was pretty miserable. He was supposed to be practicing piano today, but he set his ipod in the speaker instead and slumped onto his bed. “I feel like death,” he complained to Plagg. 

“I bet. Head’s up.” 

Adrien yelped, just barely managing to get his left hand up in time to catch the bottle of naproxen Plagg had flung at him. It was swiftly followed by a water bottle, which landed beside him on the bed and bounced a few times. “Plagg! Did you have to throw it?”

“Yes.” Plagg said flatly, before he went rummaging for cheese. “You still wanting to go out shadow-hunting tonight?”

“Not really, but I’m going to do it anyway.” He braced the pill bottle with his knees to unscrew the top and measure out as much as was safe, then did the same for the water bottle. “Was she really weak to light? I think I’ve got a flashlight in here somewhere.”

“Yeah, it disperses her shadows.” Plagg nodded.

“I guess I’m pretty lucky that paramedic came by and had a flashlight,” Adrien sighed.

“Yeah…  _ Lucky.” _ Plagg muttered, but Adrien didn’t hear. But when he spoke next it was louder. “So, while we wait for dinner, I’m gonna tell you about your new powers. Make sure you  _ actually _ listen all the way through this time.”

“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

“I’ll let you live it down when you let me live down the bracelet incident.” Plagg pouted.

"You've been around since the beginning of the universe. You should have known better.  _ I _ was fourteen and was going to be a superhero." Adrien insisted. "I got too excited. Remember-- best thing to ever happen to me and all that?"

Plagg's pout turned to a frown, but he chose not to comment. "Anyway. Let's go over your powers."

* * *

Two hours and a miserable dinner later, Chat Noir found himself on a rooftop near his house. It wasn't dark yet, but the sun was beginning to set, turning the sky a brilliant orange. It would have been nice to have some time to enjoy it, but he had other concerns.

The first was trying to get ahold of Ladybug. Chat Noir had no voicemails, texts, or even missed calls, so it was unlikely that she had transformed between last night and now. He pressed the call button and as predicted, it went straight to voicemail.

"Good evening, My Lady. I have a little more information about what happened last night. Plagg knew what Monarch meant, it's a guy with mind control powers and it sounds like he can boost the powers of people who have them naturally, or something. That's apparently why he was having his lackey kidnap people. There were others wielding our Miraculouses seventeen years ago trying to track him down, but he disappeared and they never found him. I'm going to the police station to ask about missing people. See if I can find any information. I'll be out for a while tonight, so if you get this, call me back. I'll text you whatever I find out."

Chat Noir ended the message and sighed. He  _ really _ wished he had a way to contact Ladybug when she wasn't transformed. He had been meaning to bring up burner phones to her before.

_ Actually…  _ he checked his pockets for the clip of cash he carried around. That should be enough to get two pay-as-you-go phones. Chat Noir could just hand her one when he next saw her.

With that decided, Chat Noir made a quick stop at the nearest electronics shop. It was funny to see people's expressions as one of Paris's superheros walked casually around a shop. He just gave anyone staring an amused smirk and carried on with picking out two phones. They weren't top of the line, but they weren't too bad, and he made sure to get unlimited texting, calls, and data. 

Once the phones were safely tucked into pockets, Chat Noir unclipped his baton and vaulted in the direction of the police station. As he crossed the city he tried to organise his thoughts: First, he needed a list of missing people reports, both for the present and the two years the past Ladybug and Chat Noir were active; then, he needed to investigate their houses and any places they were said to have last been seen; lastly, he needed to talk to anyone involved with the missing people.

It only took a minute to reach the station with his vaulting. Chat Noir could hear chatter inside, multiple conversations ongoing between the officers and each other, or people who had come to the station for help. But it went quiet when Chat Noir stepped through the door, and he couldn't help but feel subconscious. It was different from the perplexed looks of the people in the store.

"Hey, uh…" Chat Noir rubbed at the back of his head nervously. "I was wondering if I could maybe look through some records? I wanted to follow up on something I saw yesterday."

"Something to do with Papillon?" The man at the front desk asked, eyes widening.

"Kind of, sort of…" Chat Noir said hesitantly. "Last night I encountered someone with powers that was not an akuma. She was trying to kidnap someone. I found out a little bit more, but I wanted to take a look at recent missing persons reports?"

Chat Noir wished Ladybug was here. He always seemed to get anxious talking to adults outside of a fight or a number of known scenarios. Adrien Agreste was supposed to be polite and respectful at all times, and it was hard to resist the smile-politely-and-be-quiet instinct even as Chat Noir. Ladybug didn't have that problem, so she was the one who usually talked to the authorities.

For a moment, the officers looked at each other uncertainly. What  _ was _ the law when it came to superheroes requesting information? After a few moments someone clearly higher ranked amidst the officers stepped up and made a decision. "Of course, if this will help keep the city safe then we are happy to help."

"Thank you." Chat Noir managed to fight off a relieved smile as he was led to the archives.

As it turned out, there had been a  _ lot _ of missing person reports in the last two months, and between seventeen and fifteen years ago the number was scarily high. However, a majority of those missing were unexpectedly found later, no worse for wear and with no memory of their time since then.

Chat Noir's guess was that they had been rescued by the older superhero pair. Judging on the time between the spike of disappearances and the first person to reappear, it must have only been a week or so into Monarch's plan (whatever THAT was) before the heroes were chosen. He couldn't stop the guilt twisting his insides. It had already been two months and he was just  _ now _ finding out that people were missing.

Time passed, maybe an hour, before Chat Noir finally set the files down and stood up. He'd taken notes and pictures of the important parts with his baton, and put every known location into its map as a marker, and now it was time to follow up on what he'd learned. Chat Noir stopped just long enough to say goodbye to the officers that had helped him, then he was out the door and on the rooftops, looking over the notes in the light of the slowly setting sun.

Fifteen missing in two months. Almost two a week. There was no pattern he could discern from the police reports alone; there were old people, young people, men, women, living mostly in different parts of Paris and surrounded by different circles. Nothing to tie them together, except Plagg said that Monarch kidnapped people with latent potential.

Superheroes and magic and the supernatural had never really been a secret, but like many things about the world it wasn't something someone thought about unless it was right in front of them. Until Papillon, Paris hadn't had any openly strange things happen in a long while, decades at least. Superheroes were a thing on the news for New York and a couple other cities around the globe, or in the pages of a comic book or a movie-- until suddenly they weren't. People with powers normally never even knew, and those that did often concealed them to avoid trouble. 

There was, after all, a reason that superheroes wore masks. 

None of this was helpful of course. Chat Noir had no way of knowing who might be a target or not. So instead he decided to check the house of the newest disappearance, one of the few who didn't live alone. It was a man named Claude Durand, a thirty-four year old known for his amazing performances as a mime. Claude lived in his family home with his parents, and his father had been home the night of his disappearance. The father might have seen something that the police hadn't known the significance of.

It was a decently sized house, small compared to the Agreste Mansion but maybe a little larger than the average. Chat Noir guessed it had been held by the family for a long time now. There was a light on in a window, and the sound of a television. After knocking he heard footsteps instead.

"Hello, can I--" The elderly man paused, his eyes widening. "Chat Noir?"

"Hello. Are you Monsieur Durand?" Chat Noir greeted. "I heard your son was missing."

Monsieur Durand stared at him for a moment. Chat Noir took the time to observe him; he seemed like an ordinary old man, mostly bald, but tall and standing straight and relatively muscular. The man nodded and moved aside to let him in. "Yes. He is. I had no idea that… well, the police were working on it but I didn't know they had told you two."

"They hadn't." Chat Noir said as he stepped in, giving a smile. Monsieur Durand shut the door behind them. "I only found out last night when I stopped the latest kidnapping. I figured I'd start asking around."

"I'm happy to tell you anything you think would help." Monsieur Durand said earnestly. "Anything to get my son back safely. Would you like to sit down while we talk? I just made a pot of tea, if you would like some."

"Only if it isn't an inconvenience," Chat Noir said quickly. 

"Of course it's not an inconvenience. You've saved Paris countless times, which includes the lives of me and my son. And now you're helping me find my boy. I think a cup of tea is the  _ least  _ I can do. The living room is this way." Monsieur Durand led him down the hall. The walls were covered in photos, clearly spanning multiple generations. 

It looked like this family had been mimes for a long time. It struck Chat Noir as an odd family business, but he was sure there were stranger ones out there. There were far more of Claude and his parents than the older generations though. Pictures of Claude as a young boy full of energy and bright smiles. One as a collège student posing for a picture with his arms slung around two friends-- a girl of chinese descent with long dark hair, and a dark skinned boy in a beret-- all three of them caught laughing. 

Another picture looked to be from Lycée: Claude, still with the same girl and boy, but now joined by a boy and girl who both had pale skin and blond hair and blue eyes, though the boy's eyes were greyer and he seemed reluctant to be a part of the picture. There were more of those same five but in different places, and by the third photo the blond boy seemed to have relaxed, no longer keeping apart from the others and with an arm looped around the dark-haired girl's shoulders. There were pictures of the five friends all the way till the present, where Claude's face more closely matched the one in the case folder. 

The latest one made Chat Noir pause.

"Excuse me, Monsieur? I'm sorry for being nosy about your photos, but I was wondering if you could tell me who this woman is?" Chat Noir said, pointing to the dark-haired woman. He was almost certain it was the paramedic who had saved him last night. That was an odd coincidence. "I think I recognise her. There was a paramedic at the scene of the attempted kidnapping last night that looked like her."

Monsieur Durand paused and looked back at the wall, and a smile spread over his face. "That would be Bridgette Cheng. My Claude has been friends with her for a very long time. It probably  _ was _ her you saw, considering last I heard she was still a paramedic." The man's smile faltered. "I should try to contact them, let them know. Claude had all their numbers on his phone, and it was with him when he…"

"We'll find him." Chat Noir assured him gently. "And I'm sure there's a way to figure out how to tell his friends too. Maybe the police can help."

Claude's father gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you. Come, this way." He led him the rest of the short distance to the living room and gestured for him to sit at the couch before going into the kitchen to make tea. Chat Noir checked over the file on Claude again while he waited, trying to find any additional information that might be of use. Claude's mother was in the hospital with pneumonia right now, which explained why she wasn't home.

Chat Noir looked up when Monsieur Durand returned with a tray of tea, accepting the cup he was handed and after a moment's deliberation added a few sugar cubes and cream. Nobody was going to tell  _ Chat Noir _ to avoid sugary drinks. "Thank you."

Monsieur Durand gave him a smile, adding a single cube of sugar and dollop of cream to his own tea. "So… what questions did you have for me?"

"Well, if you could describe the night he went missing, that might be helpful. There may be something that the police may have missed. The kidnapper last night had powers, and that kind of thing is  _ our _ specialty." Chat Noir said, keeping his voice light so as to  _ try _ not to alarm Monsieur Durand. 

Strangely, rather than alarm or surprise, Monsieur Durand simply frowned. "That makes sense. It would have been hard for a regular kidnapper to get the upper hand on Claude. But if the person who took him  _ also _ had powers..."

"He has powers?" Chat Noir inquired. That did fit, but he hadn't known any of the victims  _ knew _ they had abilities.

"I suppose if there is anyone it's safe to tell it's you." Monsieur Durand said with a sigh. "Yes. I'm sure you remember fighting that mime akuma? Similar abilities have been in our family for years. Watch."

Chat Noir watched with fascination as the man mimed a small box, then set his teaspoon atop the box, where it sat there as if it was solid. "Whoa."

"Although," Monsieur Durand said, and the spoon fell to the table. "I will have you know that we do  _ not _ use our powers during performances. It is an art we have always taken very seriously."

"I understand," Chat Noir assured him. "So you think Claude would have been able to fight off a kidnapper normally?"

Monsieur Durand nodded. "Yes. He practiced defending himself with his abilities during Lycee, while I was missing."

Chat Noir froze, "Wait what? You went missing too?" If Claude was in lycee, the timeline fit. "Part of the string of disappearances fifteen years ago?"

"I didn't think it was important, but… you're right. This is the same, isn't it?" Monsieur Durand looked shaken at the thought. "But why would it be happening again? Why my  _ son?" _

"Because he shares your power." Chat Noir let out a slow breath, wondering how much to explain. "I'd rather none of this get out until I've had a chance to speak with Ladybug about it. But long story short… the victims back then were rescued by superheroes, but the person behind it disappeared and was never found. He seems to be trying again now."

"I had no idea… I have no memory of the time I was gone. I just woke up in bed again one day. I'd been found outside my front door and Claude carried me in." The older man shuddered, but then brightened. "That means you can save him, can't you? Every missing person was found again before."

Chat Noir gave him his best smile. "I promise, we'll save your son."

* * *

For the rest of the evening, until it got too late in the night, he questioned other friends and families of the missing, but got nothing of use. After that, he began investigating the areas of the kidnappings. Most of them only had general areas, but it was at least a start. There was always the possibility of the police missing something because they weren't looking for  _ magic. _

But it was only a chance, and it seemed by the time Chat Noir finished checking the fourth location that luck was not on his side today. But he proceeded to the fifth anyway. The only pattern he had so far discerned was that most of the victims were kidnapped away from home, typically in alleys with little or no light. He made a mental note to talk to the mayor about improving lighting and repairing broken street lights. 

This last street was worse than the others. The streetlights were long-since broken, and the buildings seemed abandoned, only the sound of scurrying rats inside and the smell of dust and-- cleaning chemicals? That seemed odd, actually. Chat Noir wasn't an expert on cities and how they worked (he'd spent more time outside the mansion in just the time since becoming Chat Noir than he had in his whole life before then) but shouldn't there be  _ someone _ in these house buildings? If not the owners, homeless people or runaways or  _ something? _ He hadn't seen so many empty houses before.

Fighting the slight chill down his spine, Chat Noir stepped along the street and began to search, wondering if maybe he should be checking the houses too. The streets looked empty enough, any evidence long since cleared by police or rain. But maybe inside something had been left behind.

Chat Noir tried the middle building, the one where the smell of cleaning chemicals came from, and stopped just inside the door, feeling almost a wave of  _ something _ that made him immediately uneasy. If he'd been a real cat with fur, it would've been raised, and his cat ears flattened and the belt tail curled inward. It was like some instinct was screaming at him to get  _ away _ from there, but for no reason that he could tell. It was too sudden, too unprovoked, and it didn't feel  _ right. _

It felt more like an akuma than a natural fear. Like one of the akumatised whose powers messed with the mind or emotions, something external trying to make Chat Noir's mind behave the way it wanted. There had been enough of akumatised villains messing with his head in the past, and Chat Noir refused to let himself be influenced again. He took a breath and then stepped further into the house. The further he got from the threshold, the weaker the artificial fear got, and by the time he'd arrived in the house's kitchen, it was nothing more than a prickling sensation. 

Definitely magic. Chat Noir  _ really _ hated that kind of magic. 

The smell of chemicals was strongest here, and fairly recent; within a week or so, definitely, though Chat Noir wasn't an expert. It formed a trail, through the kitchen and towards the other door. Chat Noir opened it, cautiously, to find a dark basement down below, though it  _ looked _ normal enough, aside from the chemical smell continuing down the stairs. There was suddenly a strange sound behind him, like folding air, and his hand went for the baton.

"Looking for trouble again, little kitten?" A taunting voice came from behind him, and he dodged to the side on instinct even though the shadows were soundless. It hit the floor where his legs had been.

"Not specifically trouble," he said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster over the now very  _ real _ fear of this woman-- Umbra, Plagg had called her-- "But trouble's a good sign I'm finding what I  _ am _ looking for."

Umbra's shadowy face twisted into a snarl, "Foolish to try retracing our steps without your bug. How are the ribs?"

"Fine, thanks," he lied, forcing more of that faux cheer and cockiness. It was what he internally thought of as his 'information gathering' voice, because it pissed off people enough they slipped up. It also tended to get him hit a bit more if he wasn't careful. 

Today, Chat Noir  _ needed _ to be careful. Umbra was right about one thing: it  _ was _ foolish to be fighting this foe without Ladybug. He already had the disadvantage of his hurt collarbone and ribs. They were feeling much better after transforming again, but he knew another hit would be  _ bad. _

She wasn't attacking again yet, instead observing hin with a critical eye. Chat Noir watched her warily for signs of movement, and finally took the chance to  _ look _ at her more thoroughly. She wore a suit jacket and a kneelength pencil skirt, her hair just brushing her shoulders and curled carefully, tucked under a brimmed hat. With the way her shadowy nature stripped all colour from her, she looked like she belonged in an old black and film. She still looked annoyed, but Umbra kept her cool remarkably well. 

“So, I’m curious. Do you know you’re being mind controlled?” Chat Noir asked nonchalantly. “Or do you think you’re doing this out of your own will?”

Umbra scowled. “I’m  _ not _ being mind controlled. You should be more careful with your questions. You know what they say about curiosity and cats.”

“You mean the part about satisfaction bringing it back?” He grinned, watching her irritation grow. “You know, the thing about mind control is… They probably  _ all _ think they aren’t the ones being controlled.”

As Chat Noir had expected,  _ that _ goaded her into an attack. That was okay though, because it meant  _ he _ was in control of their fight. He was able to roll out of the way of the shadows with relative ease and came up in a leap through the window, shattering the pane in the process. He was thinking fast, trying to decide what the best course of action was. Apparently, whenever the last Chat Noir and Ladybug got in a good hit with a lightsource, Umbra ended up fleeing and always got away. Good for a losing fight, but not for a fight Chat Noir wanted to win by  _ catching _ her. 

Waiting for Ladybug before trying to beat Umbra in earnest would be the smart plan. He knew he should take out the flashlight in his pocket or use the function on his baton, or simply sprint to the nearest streetlight. But at the same time, he thought of Claude’s father, of the families of the other victims, the parents and siblings and best friends all so worried for their kidnapped loved ones. Even if Ladybug answered him tomorrow, someone else might go missing before then. How would he be able to face their families and friends knowing he had  _ let _ the kidnapper escape? He had to try.

Chat Noir had bought himself a second or two with his jump. Plagg had told him Umbra was physically normal besides the shadows protection, and it wouldn't shield her from climbing on broken glass. And while she could disappear into the shadows to escape, she couldn't emerge just anywhere. There were set points, and one had clearly been in that house-- which meant it was unlikely for their to be a second so close. She would need time to get back outside, and Chat Noir could hear her rushing for the door by the time he landed.

Time to see if he could pull off those new powers Plagg had given him.

Tracking her location by sound so he wouldn't be caught off guard, Chat Noir jumped up to the roof and then back down the other sidr, landing silently beside the door. Chat Noir touched the ground in front of it, concentrating, with a whispered  _ "Black Hole." _

Pitch-black energy spread out in a circle, obeying his silent command to become the diameter and depth Chat Noir wanted. It came with a sudden wave of exhaustion, the Black Hole's power coming from  _ him _ rather than Plagg. Chat Noir winced and scrambled away from it.  _ Just a few seconds,  _ he reminded himself, feeling it continue to pull away at his energy. He just needed to--

Only instinct and hearing saved him. Chat Noir heard the sound of something heavy coming towards him and dodged to the side, losing concentration on the black hole at the same time. It shrank and disappeared out of existence. He whirled to see his attacker and very briefly froze-- was that M. Haprèle's akumatised form? No, it was someone else, a  _ different _ mime, and he was pretty sure he knew who.

"Hey! Monsieur Mime, you're Claude aren't you?" Chat Noir called, and to his surprise he saw a flicker of recognition in The Mime's eyes. 

The door opened, Umbra taking a few steps out before she caught sight of The Mime. There was a thoughtful look on her face as she leaned beside the doorframe, evidently deciding to let The Mime do the hard work. Chat Noir wished he could make use of her lowered guard, but if The Mime was anything like M. Haprèle’s akumatised form, he would need to pay full attention. The Mime was an enemy who had unlimited weapons, and the only way to know what was coming was to be  _ really _ good at telling what he was miming. 

Which right now, looked to be a bow and arrow. Even rolling to the side, it just barely bounded off the reinforced shoulder armor on his suit. It only stung,  _ might _ bruise if he was unlucky, but it was already a stroke of luck that it had missed his broken collarbone. 

The fight progressed very quietly. The Mime said nothing, and his attacks-- a few more shots with an arrow, a silenced gun, a sword-- were all very quiet too. 

As Chat Noir blocked the invisible sword (he had never been so glad for fencing and being able to mostly tell where the sword was going from body language alone) it occurred to him  _ why. _ The Mime could've been using louder weapons, but loud noises would be taken as an akuma and wherever Ladybug was, probably asleep, she would likely be woken up either by the noise or her kwami.

For a moment, Chat Noir entertained the thought of maybe breaking something loudly with Cataclysm. But what if he  _ didn't _ get ahold of her and it remained broken, and what if he couldn't get away within five minutes? No, Cataclysm was a bad plan.

But maybe he could use a little more bad luck. Plagg said this should be the easiest of the new abilities to use, but would it work on magic invisible weaponry? Time to find out.

_ Break, _ Chat Noir thought. Faint, crackling black energy ran along the length of the baton just as he blocked another sword blow. There was the sound of snapping metal and a clang of a blade on the ground. The Mime stumbled.

Chat Noir managed to swing around behind him, using the baton to try to pin the Mime's arms to his sides, but a mimed heavy weight of some kind swung around Chat Noir's ankle and a quick tug sent him sprawling, pain sparking where he bumped into his right shoulder. The weight was still wrapped around his ankle and he scrambled to try to get it off-- made harder of course by the fact he couldn’t  _ see _ it.

Not good. He only had one idea left besides Cataclysming whatever had him restrained and getting the heck out.

“You’re being controlled!" Chat Noir called to The Mime. "You need to  _ fight _ it! Your parents are so worried about you." It was actually almost  _ working,  _ The Mime's expression becoming strained, afraid, but determined.

"Félix?" The Mime finally said shakily, uncertain and confused. The moment he spoke, the weight on Chat Noir's ankle vanished and he jumped to his feet. "Wait, no. You’re…” The Mime struggled with himself, trying to get the words out through Monarch’s power.

Unfortunately, Umbra noticed that the control was waning and straightened up, the tendrils of shadows coiling in preparation to strike. Chat Noir had to leap backwards to avoid getting tangled up in them again. While he was busy dodging, Umbra’s shadows seized The Mime and dragged him into the deep shadows beside the house, and they vanished.

Chat Noir sighed, giving one last look around before finally deciding that since he'd lost them anyway, there was no point trying to somehow lure them back out and into a fight again. Plus, if he was honest with himself, he had been losing that fight quite badly. He was exhausted, only adrenaline keeping him going, and now that it was wearing off he felt like he’d been run over by a truck. 

Definitely time to go home. He stopped only long enough to send one more voicemail and text to Ladybug.

By the time he was through his window, he felt like collapsing. He  _ did _ collapse onto his bed as the transformation fell away and the exhaustion hit him in full.

Plagg started whining, “Ugh. It’s so weird when  _ I’m _ the one with power left. You really overdid it there, kid. What part ‘start small’ with the new powers didn’t you get?”

“Mmm.” Was about all he could muster through his pillow.

There was a moment of quiet, then a sigh, and the weight of his blanket on his back. “Go to sleep, kid. I’ll yell at you in the morning.”

“M’kay,” Adrien mumbled, drifting off immediately.

For a moment Plagg watched him sleep, a frown on the kwami’s face. His chosen was such a stubborn self-destructive child sometimes. There was almost no chance of talking Adrien out of continuing to go out. If Ladybug didn’t transform by tomorrow, Plagg was going to have to make a little  _ trip _ to the bakery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wrote more of this. Still mostly from my phone (Admittedly most of my fics are written from my phone but I have someone beta the silent hill one. This one I have no beta for) so I'm very sorry for the mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this stuff while half-asleep from my phone, so sorry for mistakes...
> 
> I'm not entirely sure what my thought process behind this was besides 'I kinda wanna write a mystery' and 'I really wanna write some mentor au.'


End file.
